


divorced, gay, single and ready to mingle!

by horsetrackhiggs



Category: Kamen Rider - All Media Types, Kamen Rider Fourze
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, No Spoilers, Post-Divorce, divorced single dad kengo for the win, idk man i suck at tagging i just think they are in love, its just gay people being sweet and gay and in love, this started as a joke but ended up like legit lol, what can i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horsetrackhiggs/pseuds/horsetrackhiggs
Summary: After nearly 17 years of an easy marriage and two children, Kengo Utahoshi finds himself signing divorce papers. And not too long after, he finds himself going on his first date with a man-- who happens to be his son's homeroom teacher.
Relationships: Kisaragi Gentarou/Utahoshi Kengo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	divorced, gay, single and ready to mingle!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ampersandra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ampersandra/gifts).



> this started as a joke based off of me and my dear friend trin bullying kengo for his gay ass cardigan so hard that we made a whole au just to do so and then i accidentally wrote a 5k fic out of it. oop! not my fault kengo is gay gay. shouldnt have worn the cardigan or had an undercut if he didnt want to be called out lolz<3

After nearly 17 years of an easy marriage and two children, Kengo Utahoshi finds himself signing divorce papers with the faintest smile on his face. 

It ended up being a mutual agreement. There was no way for Kengo and his wife to continue being happy with one another, and with a simple yet honest explanation, both kids were able to understand and move on from it within moments after having the news broken to them.

Looking back, it’s almost ridiculous how the topic was even brought up-- but it was terribly mortifying in the moment for him. He should be thankful she had always been such a warm and understanding person all things considered. It’s the main reason he thought he was in love with her in the first place; that relentless compassion.

Kengo had been typing away at his laptop when it happened, eyes squinting at his screen as he tried to script out some emails he had been putting off-- it was his least favorite part of his job, only due to the fact that he struggled with tone during face to face conversations, so over text he found it even harder to convey. His wife was sitting patiently by his side waiting for him to shift the device towards her so she could read it all over. 

In the meantime, she decided to run her hand through his hair; a loving gesture, something that always made him stiffen up at first before relaxing into it. It wasn’t like she minded, Kengo had always been a bit adverse to PDA and physical affection; but he was never one to deny her small things like this.

His wife is about to make a teasing comment about how he needs to get a haircut when she realizes that he already has gotten one. A drastic one from God knows how long ago. What a discovery! As she shoves the longer bits of hair out of the way, everything starts to click into place.

“You have an undercut now!” She laughs, and Kengo freezes up like a deer in headlights, fingers still pressing down on the keys, messing up his whole email with an ongoing string of unnecessary characters. 

“It looks nice.” She follows it up with, tone careful as she brings her hand back to her lap. “Kengo, we should get a divorce.”

He ends up in a coughing fit from choking on the ‘thank you’ that never made it all the way out. A strangled noise manages to escape him, a very typical way to express confusion for Kengo.

Another laugh from his soon to be ex-wife. “You’re gay.”

Kengo can only stare at her for a few moments in silence, breath caught in his chest uncomfortably. Her smile never fades-- it’s almost overwhelming enough to make him sick. He has to blink a few times to keep tears away.

“I am gay.” 

Now that’s something that he’s never said out loud before; so he says it slowly, like he was attempting to defuse a bomb that was never wired in the first place. There’s a part of him that wants to feel ashamed, to feel guilty about the relief that starts to spread through his body as he tries to fight his mouth from twitching upwards.

Kengo had never really been interested in dating or anything of the sort when he was younger, so it wasn’t difficult to brush off his lack of enthusiasm when it came to that kind of thing. Honestly, when he was in school it wasn’t something he ever even considered; not until a drunken joke in his first year of college with his friend. JK found out that Kengo still hadn’t had his first kiss and was quick to correct that. This wasn’t a surprising course of action, he’d known his friend long enough, so he was able to predict what was going to happen as soon as the confession left his mouth.

He hadn’t expected it to be good or bad-- out of the kiss he felt neutral about it, offending JK when his only reaction was a plain ‘you wear too much lip gloss’. But there was a strange feeling in his chest that he’s still never been able to pin. At the time, he had considered trying to ask his friend if he felt it as well, but the pair both made it a mission to protect themselves by hiding how they truly felt. It was the mutual understanding of respecting that boundary that made their relationship work, to the surprise of most who knew them. 

And then he met someone who was able to read him like an open book-- she’s still doing that to this day, it would seem. 

She looks just as pleased when he repeats it a few more times for good measure. Obviously, there was more going into this discovery than just the new haircut, but she’ll only bring that up if he asked for it.

Both of the kids had taken it pretty well too. Their youngest was excited over the notion of receiving double gifts, and their oldest seemed to really only care about if he’d get his own room whenever Kengo settled down somewhere new. He still came over to make dinners, was on pick up and drop off duty, made appearances at any school events-- everything he did before, now he’s just divorced, gay and sleeps somewhere else.

The biggest change is that his best friend (he doesn’t want to refer to her as just his ex-wife-- it feels weird to him, and she’s more than just that to him) no longer greets him with a kiss and at times will whisper in his ear with a subtle point to a man to try and figure out what exactly Kengo’s type is.

When asked, by either her or JK, he’d be quick to say that he doesn’t have a type past being a man, maybe taller than him with a smile that makes him lose his train of thought at times. They assumed that Kengo would want to be with someone as smart as him, but that’s not entirely true; it’d be nice for someone to be able to keep up with him, but honestly just being willing to listen to whatever tangent he found himself on was enough. Having a passion that shows in everything they say and do, laughing far too loud at their own unfunny joke is a sweet trait, being patient and warmhearted to a fault, something that Kengo couldn’t entirely understand but he’d be willing to learn, to let such a warmth consume him and--

Okay. Maybe Kengo Utahoshi did have a type. A very specific type of man that was calling out his name with a fondness that he didn’t deserve as he stood awkwardly by the front gate of his son’s highschool waiting for him to get out of practice.

The young teacher had always been overly friendly. At first, it was off-putting, training Kengo to keep his hands in his pocket so the taller man didn’t try to force the weird handshake he seems to do with anyone who happens to be in a 10 foot radius on him. Even though it was endearing. His enthusiasm seemed to spread to everyone who engaged with him, even if they seemed like they were on the verge of a breakdown.

Kengo stiffens when the hand claps on his shoulder, but he doesn’t pull away. He shifts to get a better look at the homeroom teacher-- not for gay reasons, just to be polite --and manages to keep a small smile off his face while in the presence of such an infectious one. 

“Kisaragi-sensei,” He starts, unable to keep looking directly at the man if he wanted to keep all of his dignity. “It’s nice to see you.”

Somehow, Gentarou Kisaragi’s smile manages to grow even wider-- Kengo wondered if his cheeks ever ached from all the grinning and if he’d like someone to press soothing lips to them. He can feel himself start to heat up under his collar as the other pulls away to place both hands on his hips with a rather dramatic toss of the bottom of his blazer to land there.

“Kengo, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Gentarou?” There’s a playfulness in his tone that Kengo rolls his eyes at. “Pleasure as always to run into you.”

Something feels off about the entire interaction so far, and it wasn’t just from the way Kengo’s stomach was twisting up inside him. Gentarou seemed almost nervous; fingers drumming against his belt, foot tapping rapidly. If Kengo were a different man, he might have asked what was wrong.

“Picking up the kid?” Kengo only nods silently in response, causing Gentarou to push out a breathy laugh. “He’s a good one.”

“I feel like you say that about all your students.”

That earns Kengo a laugh, a real one that makes a warm feeling swell up in his chest with a hint of pride. Gentarou doesn’t need to confirm it verbally, the sheepish expression on his face paired with his hand rubbing at the back of his neck was all the confirmation needed.

“He hung out with me during lunch today-- nothing bad, just had a few questions about an upcoming event. We got to talking and…” The young teacher pauses, eyebrows a bit furrowed like he was thinking really hard.

“Well, we got on the topic of the divorce your family went through.”

“It’s not like we were attempting to hide it, so I’m surprised you weren’t already aware. Especially with how involved you always seem to be.”

“Oh, I mean-- I did know about the whole thing but he...told me about the reason.”

Kengo felt a rush of cold over his body as soon as the words left Gentarou’s mouth. There was a dizzying mix of fear and irritation swirling around in his head, causing him to be so caught up in his nauseating worst case scenario thoughts that he hardly noticed that the young teacher was stiffly bowing in front of him like a schoolboy.

“Please let me take you to dinner!” 

Sure, Kengo knew all of those words separately, but he was having a hard time processing them all together.

“Huh?” His spine is uncomfortably straight as his eyes stay locked on Gentarou, who is now standing back up to his full height.

“Uhm,” The teacher’s face was starting to tint pink. “I’m asking you out on a date.”

Kengo blinks a few times, like he still wasn’t following.

“Augh, sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-- it’s just I’ve always been a man of action, you know? Make the most of every day and all that, so when he told me you were gay I just-- I couldn’t not try to shoot my shot.”

For a moment, Kengo actually wondered if this was a dream. Even with being married for a good number of years, he felt so removed from the idea of romance; longing for something his entire life and only able to figure out what it was over recently. He felt so behind-- there were times where he struggled making eye contact with men and here before him was a man so openly expressing his desire to be with another one. With Kengo, of all people.

Before Gentarou can spit out any more apologies, Kengo is pulling out his phone and offering it to him. It was the teacher’s turn to be confused, since the other wasn’t saying much of anything but he was quick to catch on to the nervous smile working its way onto Kengo’s lips and the excitement hidden in his eyes.

Luckily for both of them, Gentarou had a special talent for reading people. His hands were shaking a bit as he typed his number into the other’s phone, misspelling his name a few times in the process. Kengo thought it was adorable-- how demonstrative the taller man was.

His phone is passed back to him as Kengo’s son comes bounding onto the scene. Immediately his attention is on his homeroom teacher, engaging in that silly handshake. Kengo only offers a small smile and nod as a farewell, but somehow that makes Gentarou’s smile grow impossibly wider. 

Before he starts up his car, he gets a text from the teacher. Just a simple heart, in response to the one he sent himself from Kengo’s phone so he could have his number as well. He can’t help but laugh fondly with an amused shake of his head.

They didn’t text much outside of planning the date. Kengo checked his phone far too often for someone who regularly forgot that he even owned one. It’s not like he expected Gentarou to spend his free time bugging Kengo before they’ve even had their first date. But there was a large part of him that was more than positive that he was going to receive a text any day now canceling on him. 

No such text ever did come. At 3:27 am on the day of, Kengo received a text that simply read ‘ _am SO pumped for our date tonight xD_ ’ and for a moment Kengo had to mourn for a part of his ego that he will never get back over finding a grown man using such an emoticon endearing.

Kengo arrives far too early at the chosen restaurant; a place casual enough to not feel too high pressure but still fitting for a pair of adults. He’s so out of his element that he’s almost embarrassed-- checking his watch every few seconds, constantly glancing down the street to see if the other was in sight, even turning slightly to try and fix his hair in the window.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and the dread that fills him is gone in an instant when he realizes it’s just JK sending him to ‘ _calm the fuk d0wn_ ’ and that ‘ _everythign will b aight_ ’. So Kengo did allow himself to take a few deeper breaths. JK was right-- which made Kengo frown just a bit over how good his friend got at knowing how his brain worked. Not that it was hard to know how abundantly nervous Kengo was, having paced around his house in a near fit while JK attempted to help him get dressed. It’s not that Kengo has asked his friend for help on this; no, no-- JK simply decided to abuse his spare key privileges, and he wasn’t sure if he’d make it out of his apartment alive if he denied the other.

JK didn’t have much to work with; he and Kengo were such opposites in terms of fashion that it was often difficult for them to find a happy medium. He did manage to convince Kengo to put his little hooped earring back in, try out the white slacks with the pink dress shirt, and to leave the tie at home. They had argued a bit about the number of buttons that should be left undone; JK was insisting for at least half of them (just who the hell did he think Kengo was even) while Kengo barely wanted to have one left open. They settled on two, but it meant JK couldn’t talk him out of his weird gay cardigan. 

God, JK hated that fucking knit shitshow so much. It was a little too baggy around Kengo’s arms while also managing to be weirdly tight around his shoulders. From a distance, you’d think he was just wearing a sleek blazer, but of course, it couldn’t just be that. It couldn’t even manage to just be black, to hide the fact that it was indeed made of thick wool. It was getting so old and worn that it was impossible to get rid of all the little bits of fuzz plaguing the damn thing.

But it was whatever. If it was something that Kengo felt good in, well, who was JK to steal that away from him? Hell, if that hot teacher (yes, he did offer to pick up the kid from school the first day after Kengo blushed a bit after mentioning the guy) could develop a crush over his grumpy dad energy then this deplorable piece of clothing probably wouldn’t deter him.

Kengo’s tapping out a reply when there’s a warm hand on the small of his back, causing him to jolt with a humiliating noise. The familiar laugh made his cheeks already start to heat up, but it did cause him to melt out of the defensive stance he had taken.

“Sorry, sorry--” Gentarou didn’t sound sorry at all. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

It was barely audible, but Kengo mumbles something along the lines of ‘ _it’s fine_ ’.

And then, with no warning, Kengo is being accosted at his shoulders by the taller man with a look so intense that he had to swallow down hard from nerves (it also didn’t help the flush creeping up his neck at all). 

“Kengo!” Did he always need to be so loud? And did he really need to shake him while he announced this? “You look handsome! Very super handsome!” 

There was part of Kengo that swore he could see little hearts dancing in Gentarou’s eyes. If that was possible, he was sure such an event would be happening in his own.

Kengo has to look away for a moment, clearing his throat in the process. The teacher pulls his hands away quickly with an airy laugh. 

“Oops, sorry. Yuuki is always telling me I can be rather overbearing when I get excited.” 

“You’re fine.” The reply comes almost too quick, and neither Kengo’s nerves nor Gentarou’s smile fades.

It’s now that Kengo allows himself to really take the man in. He looked good-- not that it was something Kengo expected to change with being out of one’s work clothes, but he still feels his breath caught in his throat. Gentarou’s hair was the same, and it seemed he still sported the same dog tags and studded wristband. His usual beat-up sneakers were replaced with a nice pair of lace-up boots, adding on some extra height that the man didn’t need (not that Kengo was going to complain about that one). He wore simple black jeans with a faded t-shirt for some band Kengo’s never heard of under a fitted cropped leather jacket, decorated with assorted pins and buttons that he doesn’t have the brain capacity to observe closer at present. 

The thought that crossed the single father’s mind was as follows: Gentarou Kisaragi was completely and utterly out of Kengo Utahoshi’s league. 

“You uhm-- you look good. Really good.” It was embarrassing how his voice was on the verge of cracking as he said that, but there was an uncharacteristically shy look on Gentarou’s face for a few seconds, like he wasn’t expecting it.

But then he goes right back to looking as ecstatic as ever, bouncing on his heels as he gives his thanks to his date with a wink before latching onto his hand to pull Kengo inside of the building. 

The date was going smoothly; Gentarou fumbled while trying to pull Kengo's chair out for him, their hands brushed as they both went reaching for their drinks and neither had pulled away instantly. Kengo had come prepared, already having looked up the menu to decide on what to eat-- something the young teacher didn’t seem to do. He asked what felt like a thousand questions to this poor, underpaid teen waitress about the different meals and what she thought of them, but eventually, he had settled for something.

It was surprisingly easy to talk with Gentarou-- easier than Kengo had thought. He was worried that they would find themselves in awkward silence with nothing in common. But Kengo was genuinely having fun. The other was an active listener and enticing to listen to as well. He knew the right questions to ask, how to naturally move from topic to topic; it could just be a teacher thing, but it was so earnest that Kengo knew it was more than that.

“So,” Gentarou starts, nearly dropping his utensils into their newly arrived meals. “You’re a hell of a lot more active than most of the parents. Highschool give you some good memories?”

Kengo allows himself to snort, and there’s a tight feeling in Gentarou’s chest.

“Oh absolutely not. Well, I guess it was nothing bad either. Just not memorable.” He pauses for a moment, wracking through his brain for first date etiquette before ultimately deciding fuck it. “I lost both my parents when I was young. My mother died shortly after I was born, and a work accident took my father before I even knew how to ride a bike. I don’t remember them much at all.”

“But I remember longing over all the little things I saw my peers’ parents do for them. So I’ve always told myself that whenever I got around to having kids, I was going to be there for them as much as I possibly could.” 

“From what I’ve seen, you’re a great dad. I’m sure they’re proud of you. Both your folks and kids.” Gentarou leans in a bit to say that, tone soft.

And Kengo smiles and replies just as gentle. “Thank you.” 

“I do understand, though-- I lost mine when I was just a kid. Moved around a lot with my grandpa after. He was great and all, but was real busy. So I had to find my own way to fill those gaps.”

“Like what?”

Gentarou grins at Kengo, something a bit too wild for the question asked. 

“That’s second date material.” He’s shoving a bite of food in his mouth as Kengo rolled his eyes fondly. 

“Answer me this then-- why’d you become a teacher?”

As soon as he finishes swallowing and takes a quick drink, the taller man doesn’t even have to think about his answer. 

“No two days are the same, but all are just as inspiring as the last.” Kengo’s immediately in awe of conviction in the statement. “Sure, everyone knows that students need their teachers, but I think we need them just as much. Watching them come into themselves, finding that fire for something...being able to watch that happen is the most rewarding thing in the world. And I’m glad to play a role in that. To be there for them until the day I finally die.”

Gentarou takes another drink, and Kengo could have sworn he saw the other start to tear up as he spoke. It felt like Kengo had gotten the wind completely knocked out of him, and he prayed more than he ever had before that they’d find themselves on a second date soon after this one concluded.

(Maybe, if things went Kengo’s way, this would be the moment he cites as the one where he fell in love with Gentarou.)

When things were wrapped up at the restaurant, Gentarou insisted that he walked Kengo all the way home. It’s not like Kengo put up much of a fight on it, feeling far too young for his age every time their shoulders bumped on the way.

He’s not sure where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but he slowed his stride before asking, “Why did you ask me out?”

A small noise escapes the taller man, caught off guard by the sudden question. He gives himself a moment to gather his thoughts and Kengo does his best to focus on the ground in front of them.

“There’s a few reasons I guess. Like, number one, I think you’re hot-- uh, I mean attractive. Well, actually both, yeah. But that’s like not all. I’ve always thought that you were admirable. Smart, dedicated to your kids, passionate. Every time you speak up at a PTA event or present for a class or something I always get really excited. Like the last time, I actually asked for someone else to watch my class while I ran over, because watching you get all, y’know, into it is just amazing.” 

Kengo feels like his face is on fire, hands trembling a bit at his sides as Gentarou nervously played with his own.

“I just really wanted to get to know you better. Plus when we first met, you didn’t seem to like me, so I was super determined to make you be my friend at least and I guess at some point it hit me that I only felt so intense about it was because I totally had a crush on you. Actually, I didn’t even realize it until Ryuusei-- Sakuta, you know, he’s one of the other teachers --pointed it out, and like, at first I-- aw fuck. Sorry, I’m totally rambling.” His voice cracks a bit and Kengo takes this moment of his distraction to hook a finger on the other’s sleeve.

“Don’t apologize.” Kengo flashes Gentarou a smile, a size that the teacher wasn’t even sure his mouth could stretch. “I think it’s cute.”

Another embarrassed noise from Gentarou, but he’s maneuvering his hand so the pair’s fingers are intertwined now. 

He clears his throat. “Why’d you agree?”

Now, this was a question that he was expecting, but he still gave himself a moment so he didn’t come off as too eager.

“A few things for me as well. Much like you, I thought you were hot.” A smug little laugh that makes the hair on the back of Gentarou’s neck stick up. “Even though you are a bit overbearing, you have a good heart. You are loud and unbelievably kind in a way I’ve never seen before. Your laugh is unforgettable and I have seen the effect you have on everyone who interacts with you. Everyone adores you, and for good reason. There were times I almost felt jealous when you’d turn away from me to greet yet another person who thinks you hung the very stars in the sky yourself.”

Gentarou gives Kengo’s hand a small squeeze. Neither are sure if it’s intentional or not.

“I found myself drawn to you in a way that has never happened before. Naturally, like magnets.” 

Honestly, Kengo could have kept going. He actually had a bit of a line planned out to state how it almost scared him and how that was okay because the other made him feel strangely safe; but it would have to wait for a later time because Gentarou has stopped them both in their tracks to take ahold of Kengo’s shoulders for the second time that day.

They stare at each other for a moment, both red in the face. Somehow Kengo’s hands find their way to Gentarou’s waist, and that’s what snaps the teacher back into action. 

“Can I kiss you?” Gentarou asks in one breath, voice boarding on sounding desperate. 

“Please.” Kengo doesn’t hesitate, and neither does Gentarou when he leans in.

As cheesy as it may sound, Kengo suddenly understood what every cliche romance movie was on about now. The world around them seemed to completely still while managing to move entirely too fast. Gentarou draped his arms around Kengo’s shoulders, who only pulled him a bit closer.

The kiss was tentative, filling both men with a delightful feeling that left them needing more.

So they leaned in again. And then again. And then they were pulling apart less and less until the distant sound of a dog barking snapped them both back into reality. 

They didn’t talk much the rest of the way to the single father’s residence, both buzzing with something sickly sweet in their hearts with hands clasped.

Kengo pulled Gentarou down for another kiss when they reached the door. 

“Goodnight, Kisaragi-sensei.” He says with an edge of playfulness as the other groaned loudly.

“Please, I’m begging you-- just call me Gentarou.” 

There’s another kiss, to wipe the pout off the teacher’s face.

“That’s second date material.”

A laugh bubbles out of Gentarou before the final kiss goodbye. 

Kengo did follow through on it-- for the second date and on all the ones that came after.

Sometimes there’s still a part of him that wonders how he got here; waking up with a cold nose pressed into his neck as the sun shines through the blinds. Trapped in bed from being enclosed tightly in another man’s arms who seemed unfazed by the unpleasant amount of heat between their bodies. Having gentle lips kiss into his shoulder when the other is no longer too dazed from sleep to keep him from his routine expression of morning affection.

Gentarou’s body is jolting away from Kengo so fast that it almost frightens him. 

“Oh my God, I’m late for class.” His voice is so panicked that it almost stirs Kengo right into action, but then the other is leaning back into their shared bed. “Oops! Sorry, forgot I wasn’t a student.”

There’s a breathy laugh against Kengo’s skin as Gentarou settles against him again; the peaceful moment only lasting a few seconds before the man is throwing himself out of the bed.

“Oh my fucking God-- I am the teacher.”

While the teacher races to get himself dressed, his boyfriend (soon to be husband, but Kengo doesn’t know about that plan yet) watches him with a lovestruck look, chuckling with no ill-will before calling him a dumbass fondly as he tosses him his morning medication from the bedside table.

Gentarou leaves the house in a rush, and before Kengo can even get himself out of bed the taller man is back in their room, stumbling across to plant a quick kiss on the other’s lips before running out again.

What a man, that Gentarou Kisaragi was. One of a kind. One that Kengo Utahoshi was completely and utterly in love with. One that felt the exact same way in return. 

(‘ _What a lucky motherfucker_ ’, something nearly every single mother thought. As well as JK, but it wasn’t said with the same bitter resentment.)

**Author's Note:**

> anyways i hope u enjoyed!! i havent written in a long time and rly did only plan for this to be 1k at most but uhm<3 i have some major fucking kamen rider brain rot<3
> 
> big love to my homegirl trin who made the discovery of kengo's undercut changing both of our lives in an instant and for always bullying kr gay people with me.
> 
> u can find me on twitter and tumblr @ dumbassology!


End file.
